The Overlord Flower's Guide to Intercepting a Woman's Wife's Death and the Male Lead&

Zhou Bingheng pushed open the car door, walked around to the passenger side, and stretched out his long arm to carry the weakened Su Xingmian out.

The moment he got his hands on it, his brow twitched violently.

Her body temperature was completely irrational, fluctuating wildly, one second scalding hot and the next icy cold.

Greenish-blue veins climbed up her neck from her collar, wrapping around her entire neck.

The spikes under the nails had completely pierced the skin.

Zhou Bingheng's military uniform jacket was pierced in three places.

He didn't utter a sound, his arm muscles tensed, holding her even tighter, sitting on the withered grass without letting go.

Su Xingmian's back was arched to its limit.

A muffled groan got stuck in his throat.

She felt like her bones were about to burst.

Along the spine, a row of hard protrusions rises under the skin, obstructing the path from the cervical vertebrae to the lumbar vertebrae.

Those are the ridges of the main stem of the night-blooming cereus, trying to break through this humanoid shell.

The surrounding secondary forest has gone mad.

Within fifty meters, the bare birch and aspen trees burst forth with buds within seconds.

Several trees burst into bloom.

In November, birch trees in Northwest China were swaying their delicate catkins, a sight usually reserved for springtime.

The withered grass roots continued to sprout new shoots regardless of the danger.

The frozen, compacted soil was cracked open by the newly grown roots.

The stark white mycelium spread wildly along the fallen leaves, forming a visible net.

This forest skipped the long, harsh winter and rushed straight into mid-spring.

Su Xingmian's thorn pierced the skin of Zhou Bingheng's wrist, drawing out a large bead of blood.

A trickle of blood escaped from the corner of her mouth.

She pushed hard against his chest.

"Put me down... You can't look... You'll be scared..."

Even her voice was broken and fragmented.

"I saw it, and I wasn't scared."

Zhou Bingheng pressed her even closer to his chest.

"Go away... I can't control myself... I'll hurt you."

"Don't hold it in, let it out, there's no one here."

His voice was steady, without a trace of fear.

"Don't be afraid, I'll always be with you."

This statement is like lifting some kind of seal.

Her dark green pupils contracted rapidly.

The spikes retreated rapidly, desperately trying to avoid his warm skin.

But he held on too tightly, and the thorns had nowhere to hide, so he could only lie down, clinging tightly to the stem.

"Don't accept it."

Zhou Bingheng placed his hand on the back of her hand.

"Grow as long as you want. I'm right here."

Su Xingmian's breathing became completely disordered.

The suppressed demonic power broke through the final gate.

The process of qualitative change is irreversible.

The flower buds deep within the soul burst open layer by layer, and a torrent of vitality swept through the entire body.

In just three seconds.

Her hair had completely turned from black to an unfathomable dark green.

The ends of the hair split open, turning into extremely thin vines that wildly climbed up the withered grass in all directions.

The ten fingers supporting the ground melted away at the joints, transforming into the thorns of the night-blooming cereus, which pierced the frozen soil.

The most astonishing change occurred on his back, where his military uniform was stretched and torn, making a constant hissing sound.

The ridges on the spine pierced the skin and flesh, and a section of the main stem of the night-blooming cereus, about the thickness of a thumb, rose from the base of the nape of the neck.

It was covered with a dense array of tiny thorns.

At the top of the main stem, a tightly closed flower bud is supported.

The flower buds emitted a fluorescent glow.

In the darkness of Helan Mountain, it was like a green cage lantern floating in the wind.

This is her core essence.

A hibiscus flower that has not yet fully bloomed.

Zhou Bingheng sat on the ground, his eyes never leaving her.

Even though he was mentally prepared, his breathing still became erratic.

His wife is a queen of flowers.

Su Xingmian's flower bud trembled violently, and the energy accumulated inside could burst out at any moment.

She knew the consequences: if she let it bloom, the vegetation within a radius of several kilometers would be prematurely ripened.

Tomorrow someone will come and seal off this hilltop; there's no way to explain it.

It cannot be released.

She gritted her teeth and stubbornly resisted, desperately trying to lower the level of demonic energy.

The price of resisting qualitative change is devastating.

Body temperature fluctuates between extreme temperatures: 32 degrees, 39 degrees, 31 degrees, and 40 degrees.

With each passing second, all the muscles in my body were twitching.

Just when she was in so much pain that she was about to lose control and go crazy.

The rustling sound of fabric rubbing came from behind.

Zhou Bingheng took off his military uniform.

Next up is the cotton undershirt inside.

The strong winds, reaching minus ten degrees Celsius, blew directly onto his skin.

He was shirtless, stepped forward from behind, and pulled her into his arms.

His chest pressed against hers without any hesitation.

It fits perfectly against the main stem on her back, which is covered with long, thin thorns.

The thorn pierced the flesh.

One, two, five...

Blood trickled down the lines of his abdominal muscles and dripped onto the ground.

He didn't utter a word, nor did he even frown.

The straps tightened around her arms.

"Stop struggling."

His chin rested on her shoulder, his voice low and steady.

Su Xingmian's entire body stiffened, and he was completely unable to move.

Zhou Bingheng's body temperature remained constant at 37.8 degrees Celsius.

My heart rate jumped from 72 to 96.

Each blow carried a steady weight, striking her eardrums.

His blood flowed down the wound and stained the thick stem of the night-blooming cereus.

The rampaging demonic power in the meridians seemed to be tethered in mid-air, halting at the edge of the raging cliff.

Su Xingmian instinctively sensed the taste of blood.

She didn't want to hurt him.

This rejection triggers a protective response in the main stem.

A vast and rich life force of plants flowed through the skin and flesh, continuously nourishing Zhou Bingheng's body.

This force is too domineering.

Zhou Bingheng felt a sharp pain in the pierced wound, followed by an indescribable tingling sensation.

It felt as if my body had been thoroughly cleansed and refreshed.

He doesn't have night blindness; his vision in the dark is already excellent.

But at this moment, the view suddenly opened up.

Everything around us was freed from the blur of the night.

He could see clearly the cracks on the birch trunk and the serrated edges of the grass blades on the ground.

A strange scene was reflected in his pupils.

A phantom white violet flower spun in his vision, sank, and merged into various parts of his body.

He saw his young wife completely.

The flower bud stopped trembling.

The dazzling bright green fluorescent light subsided into a warm and understated emerald color.

The main stem on the back began to retract naturally.

One by one, sharp thorns were pulled from his chest.

Each time it is pulled out, a faint green tinge appears at the edge of the wound, leaving a small piece of congealed blood scab.

Su Xingmian sensed a slight tremor in his shoulder amidst the chaos.

There was no fear or panic, only genuine heartache.

With Zhou Bingheng's blood and body temperature anchoring it, the demonic power finally found an outlet.

It turned inward and roared into the core of that flower bud.

A soft popping sound.

The seventh layer of petals unfolds, leaving a small, closed bud inside.

The energy and light clinging to the white petals changed from a translucent light green to a deep emerald.

A layer of delicate gold powder patterns floated on the surface of the petals.

That was left after his blood seeped in.

The qualitative change in demonic power is complete.

The abnormal changes in Su Xingmian's body began to subside.

The dark green hair faded from the roots downwards, turning back to black strand by strand.

The spikes on the fingertips retracted into the nail bed.

The bluish-green lines on the skin flowed from the fingertips, toes, and wrists all the way back to the torso, finally disappearing completely at the heart.

The main stem on the back is completely retracted below the skin, leaving only a row of tiny red dots along the spine.

She transformed back into a human girl.

His body temperature remained steadily at 36 degrees Celsius.

The surrounding secondary forest quieted down.

The rapidly growing buds and inflorescences remained on the branches, ceasing to expand further.

Su Xingmian was completely drained of strength and collapsed limply to the ground.

Zhou Bingheng supported her head and pulled her steadily into his arms.

He lowered his head and checked her breath.

His pulse was steady and strong, but he was exhausted and drowsy.

He finally breathed a sigh of relief.

Look down at your chest.

The dozen or so holes that had been pierced by the thorns had all disappeared.

The skin was smooth, without even a scab.

He clenched his fist, and the muscle lines and veins on the back of his hand were more distinct than before.

At minus ten degrees Celsius, I didn't feel cold even with my upper body bare.

The perceived temperature is not much different from when I'm wearing a cotton-padded coat.

A very faint flapping of wings came from above.

The golden eagle circled one last time before silently gliding into the depths of the night.

He saw clearly.

Under the moonlight, every single downy thread of the feather was perfectly clear.

Zhou Bingheng closed his eyes briefly.

The afterimage of the white lily flashed in the deepest part of my vision, then sank into the darkness and disappeared without a trace.

He wrapped the person in his overcoat tightly and carried them into the car.

I adjusted her into a comfortable position.

The engine wasn't started and the car wasn't driven away.

The two of them just sat there.

He placed one hand on the back of her head and the other on her wrist, pressing two fingers against her pulse.

He counted her heartbeats.

One, one, another.

By the time she counted to 372, her breathing had evened out, and the color of her lips had changed from grayish-white back to pale pink.

Zhou Bingheng relaxed his tense body, and the car became so quiet that only their breathing could be heard.

He touched her petal-like lips and lowered his head to kiss them.

Su Xingmian nestled in his arms, her consciousness sinking into its deepest recesses.

She returned to that courtyard.

Grandma sat in a wicker chair with a rough porcelain bowl on her lap, filled with golden honey water.

This time, Grandma spoke up.

……

At the same time.

A two-story gray-blue building in the western suburbs of Beijing.

Song Qingqing jumped up from the bed.

The mechanical voice in my head was more piercing than ever before.

[Warning! Intense fluctuations in unknown energy detected in this world! The source of the fluctuations is to the northwest; the nature of the energy cannot be identified. Threat assessment interrupted; data overflow cannot be assessed.]

The sweat on Song Qingqing's back instantly cooled down.